


A Cabin and Cuddling

by enbyjesus



Category: Total Drama (Cartoon)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:34:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29554308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enbyjesus/pseuds/enbyjesus
Summary: Scott and Duncan are forced into staying into an abandoned cabin amidst a camping challenge.
Relationships: Duncan/Scott (Total Drama)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Use of uncensored f-slur and illusions to ptsd and internalized homo/biphobia for Scott and anger issues for Duncan
> 
> Just some small angst fluff stuff 
> 
> Also note: I haven't checked this over yet!

The rain was pouring down, and sweat tinted the air. 

“What the fuck, this has to be part of Chris’s challenge.” The punks’ back met with a slick tree, and he pulled out a cigarette. 

“I hate this place.”, He takes in the nicotine, which helped soothe the stress manifesting itself as pain in his head. His face aims to the sky through closed lids under the slight protection of the leaves. His chapped lips puffs the smoke out. A long sigh follows.

“What the fuck!!” He hears a far voice shout. Time to leave. Duncan didn’t exactly feel like dealing with anyone right now, there was still quite a ways to go, and the rain wasn’t debilitating just yet. He sighs, and puts the cigarettes out and back in his pocket with the pack. 

His weight shifted completely, as yells continued in the background. Wait, is that coming towards me? Fuck.

Before being able to register what was happening, a body tackled him. “

Fuck. Sorry. God damn it.” The stranger shouts. 

A slimer of red, and the stench of a farmer informed the punk who the clumsy fuck was. “Scott? What the hell-'' Duncan shoves the red-head off of him. 

His attempts to avoid conflict seemed to become futile now, as his angry tone takes ahold “Watch where you’re going!” 

Scott stands up, the legs beneath his now-mud-stained pants shaked. Duncan noticed this, if he wasn’t so pissed, it’d probably be a toss up between comforting or mocking. Neither were apparent now. 

“It’s not like I was trying to, asshole. Maybe you should get out of the way next time.” He scoffs as his brows furrowed, as his arms cross his chest.

“Well, at least I’m not such a pussy I’m running and yelling because of what appears to be nothing.” Duncan, on his feet by now, spouts back. 

He now had mud on his clothes thanks to this idiot.

“Wanna repeat that? As if you’d even know!” Scott shouts back, finally seeming to regain some control of his shaking limbs. For a moment he seems as if he wants to say more, justify himself. He didn’t. 

The rain fell harder. “God damn! And now I’m stuck in the rain with a punk-wanna-be!” Scott shouts, angrily stepping. 

“Who said we’re together, redneck?” The mohawked asshole questioned back. As if the mood wasn’t gloomy enough, it was obvious the sun was going down. 

“I found an abandoned cabin last time I went out exploring, didn't check inside though. Now, you can come with me, or get hypothermia. I’ll be fine, I got it when I was 5 months. I’m not sure about you, though...” The red head looked back at the punk. 

“Fine. But just because I can’t smoke in this weather.” Duncan excused his actions. However, why he didn’t just leave and go by himself, and what he was running from was still fresh on his mind. Whatever. It’s not time to question this, it’s time to run.

“Wanna race there?” Duncan offers, mood completely shifted. 

“You don’t know the way there, punk boy.” Scott responds, irritated. Why do I have to be so goddamn nice. Ugh. 

“Just shout out the directions, dip ass.” 

“As if I’ll have to.” Duncan gives a half-effort smirk, and runs.

The two go off, Scotts time on the farm seemed to prove him much more fit than his punk counterpart. 

The rain left them drenched, and at the door. Scott tries to give it an open.

“What’s the hold up?” Duncan finally reaches the destination, where the red-head stood, weakly trying to open the door. 

“The doors stuck!” He shouts between grunts, with a foot on the door. He’s not the brightest…

The punk lets out a sigh, “Let me have a go at it.” He shoves the man off, and tries the nob. 

He turns with a scowl, “It’s not stuck. It’s locked, dumbass.” 

“How was I supposed to know that?” Scott shouts, but his voice is drowned out as Duncan gets to work. Juvie didn’t teach him anything, and his last allowance wasn’t spent on hair products. 

However, while the wish-bought lock pocket set was laid out, Scot came to his own conclusion as of how to deal with this. 

The forest was littered with stones, and the cabin had windows. “Ah, there we go! Knew I still go-”

And the effects of the red-head, actually thinking, came to reality. With a smash of glass, two intrences were prepared. “I unlocked the door, dipass.” Duncan gestures awkwardly. 

“Oh… Well you could’ve told me that!” Scott puffs, but the punk just throws open the door, and holds it open with his foot.

“Just get in already, hopefully there’s something to repair that window inside.” 

The red-head rushes inside. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll fix it.” He responds, rather angrily for a man who caused the issue.

“Not like I was going to do it.” Duncan responds, throwing his bag down on the wooden floor. It reminds him of the ones from winter vacations back home. It smelled of the rain outside and mildew, as the water fell from his body and clothes.

“We’re soaked.” The red-head examines his shirt, looking surprised and agitated. 

“Oh really? Here I thought we were in the Sahara Desert.” The green-mohawked man jokes, arms crossed. 

“What’s a ‘Sahara’?” Scott asks, taking off his shirt.

Duncan covers his eyes and looks away, “Woah, dude! Slow down! I don’t like you like that.” Duncan exclaims, shielding himself. 

“What? Do you think I’m a fag?” Scott’s expression is reflective of his words.

“What? I didn’t think so but...” Duncan turns back, looking the red-head in the eye. 

“Oh wait. Then, that means you are-” The red-head points towards the punk as if he saw a ghost.

Duncan caught on pretty fast. “What? I’m a ‘fag’?” His tone shifts.

Scott looks away, and body shivers, “Gross…”

However, that left him open. Duncan thought about just punching the shit outta him, or anything that’d shut that dumbass red head up. But he’s already had his fair share of beating bigots, and he was tired. 

His pent up rage, which was balled in his fist, was slowly let out a bit by loosening his grip and tapping each of his fingers to his thumb. 

Therapy seemed to have it’s benefits sometimes. It’s not like this red-head was too much of a threat outside of competition, he seemed an even match.

His soaked shirt painted the floor with droplets of water, and Duncan walks past the scottish farm boy, down to a hall. Before passing him completely, he stops for a moment and lets his anger-tinged voice express itself.

“I’m tired, so I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. But if I hear another homophobic word leave your lips, it’s gonna be your face and my fist speaking next time.”

The only sound that replied to the punks words was that of his own converse hitting the undoubtedly molded wooden planks, and the water which met them. His exit was the only thing Scott needed so he could confuse himself in his thinking.

So while Duncan left, he searched the cabin for a bed, or anything of similar notion, so he didn’t have to sleep on the floor. Scott’s thoughts became clouded while he mechanically moved as to hang up his soaking clothing. 

What found itself at the forefront of the man's mind? Duncan. And why he was so offended?

Scott isn't exactly dumb, and he knows this. But part of him is conflicted between the implications of his words and his intentions. He didn't view himself as a particularly hateful person, he didn't really view himself at all. How he interacted and affected others was never a topic of concern for the red head.

So then now- "Why?"

He said it outloud, while finishing up getting undressed and hanging up his wet clothing on the door frame aside from him. He was essentially naked, which left him a bit cold. 

But that was lacking in concern, as he began to work out on the floor. He learned that during cold winter nights, when the power was out, you had two options. Cuddle to warm up with others. Or warm up yourself. And he wasn't about to spoon Duncan.

However, while the redhead was busy thinking over the situation to the best of his abilities, and counting his work out. Duncan was much more on the job.

The floors creaked comfortingly, as he checked the rooms up stairs. 

"Hmm… a bathroom." He verbally noted every room, and the aspects. for the first two, it was an empty room and the second inhabited a toilet. 

He worked down to what seemed the last room. It was locked. "Damn it…"

The pickpocketing set was in his bag, which he left down stairs. And by god, he was trying to avoid the man that was down there by all costs. So, as any reasonable man would, he kicked it down.

Or more so, shoved. He braced his arms, slightly turned the side so his shoulder would take the impact. And ran full force.

The door flew open with a huge slam. Through the storm picking up, the sound was still noticeably in the house.

Scott flung to his feet, instantly reacting to the sound. His count off was cut close to his ideal 50. He ran up the stairs "Marie!!"

When he got up there, it was only one look down the hall to find Duncan on the ground at the end of the hall. Instinctively, he ran to the punk.

He stood over him before he could really process the situation. 

Duncan rubbed his head, "Sorry about that, had to bust down the door to see if there was a bed inside. Didn't mean to worry ya'." He was still on the floor, but let out a grutter laugh. 

Scott contemplated helping him up, before crossing his arms. "I was just seeing what all the ruckus was about."

"Yeah, yeah. Sure farm boy." He forced his body up. The punk turned from Scott, and faced the room.

"Fuck yeah!"

"Hmm… What are you yelling' about?" The red head replied snarkily.

He answered himself when his attention turned into the room. 

"A bed, idiot! Look!" Duncan flopped onto the bed like a starfish.

The room was the only furnished one. It was fully accompanied by a nightstand and two dressers. It was the only room not completely ransacked.

Scott scoffed,"Whoopdeedoo, it's a bed." He mocked with his hands, but he was a bit relieved regardless.

Duncan's limbs reached across the bed even further, "I guess this queen is all mine then!"

"Hey, no way! That's not fair!" Scott combated. 

Duncan turned his head towards the man, standing only a few feet from the door frame.

"What? I doubt you wanna share a bed with a 'fag', huh?" The punks smirk was itching to turn to a scowl.

Scott just stood there. He didn't know exactly what to do. He partly contemplated an apology, but also partly didn't care. He felt tempted to blow him off, but at the pace things are going, sleeping on the floor alone and naked would make him sick by morning.

Speaking of such, he just realized he's still half naked.

"As if I'd even care about that! Whatever, I'm gonna go fix the window!"

He rushed down the hall and stairs as Duncan called out "Good luck with that!" to him. 

An inaudible sigh followed the drawn out and obnoxiously loud words.

The punk mutters to himself, "Doesn't care my ass!"


	2. Chapter 2

Duncan hung up the rest of his clothes, as he looked around for anything handy. He passed by Scott a few times, nothing but audibly awkward grunts of acknowledgement came from the interactions.

The red head was making progress, he had found a box in the kitchen with old can food in it, and used that and tape from a cabinet to fix up the broken window. it wasn't pretty at all, but it worked.

It was late now, about 45 minutes had passed since the original breaking in. It was about to get dark, only light bits of light came out from the untouched windows.

Duncan was already upstairs, doing god knows what. He had moved his bag and all else to his room. Scott was left on the bottom floor.

And as much as he hated the idea of grabbing his shit and heading up too, he knew being left down here was dangerous. The other room even lacked windows, and the door was still potentially lockable. Although the true monster was the green haired man inside.

A sigh of courage left Scotts lips, and he gathered his bag and clothes. They were still wet. Unwearable if trying to stay warm like this.

With all his belongings in hand, his legs begrudgingly left the room, after locking the door of course.

And in a moment's time, the red head idiot stood at the doorway of the bedroom. He stood robotically, unmoving, and seemingly with no preparation to say anything. 

Duncan speaks first. "Are you planning to just stand there, or are you gonna get in this bed?"

The blatant statement called Scott out of his state, and he rolled his eyes. "Whatever, just give me a second to hang up my clothes again first."

The room had curtains, so the rods were perfect to hang up his clothes. Duncan had actually already made use of such, following his initial discovery of the room.

The air between the two was suffocating while the storm got louder, and the world got darker. Soon enough, Scott was hovering over the bed.

"You alright, dude?" Duncan asks, partly concerned, partly to mock the red-head. 

Scott crossed his arms, and sighed. "Okay, don't take this the wrong way. But-"

Duncan cut him off. He was tired, and didn't want to hear another homophobic speech. 

"But what? You think just because I like guys I'm gonna do something? I'm bisexual, not a creep."

"No! It's not that!" Scott let him finish, but he was getting fed up. For how much internal talking up it took for him to do this…

"What is it then? What is the issue?" Duncan is up now, facing Scott. Still on the bed, but seeming ready to fight at the drop of a hat.

"For christ's sake! The issue is me!" Scott shouts over the man, his arms empathizing his words. He seemed even more ferrous than Duncan.

And that was largely due to Duncan's change in expression, while still seemingly prepared for attack, he was confused.

"What?"

"I was going to apologize, jackass! I'm sorry! There!" Scott threw up his hands.

In the same movement, he threw himself into the bed, completely ignoring the punk's existence. Tugging the covers away from the punk, in an attempt to get under them.

Duncan didn't say anything at all. He didn't exactly feel bad for anything, just a little confused.

"It's okay."

"Thanks, jackass."

A silence filled the air, all aside from the storm outside.  
"I wonder how the others are doing." Duncan comments.

Although it's too dark to tell, Scott smirks a bit.  
"Not like they're worried about us." Scott replied. 

Following a moment of reflection, he continues "They're probably freezing their asses off worse than us."

Duncan laughs, "Worse than us? I feel like I'm gonna have a cold for a week!"

Scott replies steadily, "Nah, at most a day or two. If it was that cold we'd be cuddling naked."

A small silence filled the air.

"Well then, wanna cuddle?" Duncan's voice fills the silence less so then it fills Scotts ears.

"What?! I'm not gay!" Scott exclaims.

"I didn't ask that, I don't care."

Scott shoots up. "Well I do! Not all of us can be like you okay?! I can't just-"

Duncan cuts him off, "It's okay. I'm not saying you're anything. You can do that whole thing when you feel like it on your own time." 

He turns to the red head, only through flashes from the lightning can he even see his face.

"Are you crying?"

Scotts voice remained the same as it always had, except he was now wiping his tears. "No, I'm fine."

"Shut up." Duncan moves upwards, and takes the red idiots head onto his arms. 

He held him as they both balanced their knees into the beds cushioning. 

They stayed there. The lightning crashed. The rain hit the windows like a swat team, and Scott stayed as quiet as he did still.

Scott lifted his head up from the crook between scotts neck and shoulder, looking into the occasional glimpse of eyes equal to his.

"If you tell anyone about this, I'll kill you."

Duncan laughs, "Same here."

Duncan's grasp lets up, but he lingers around the man's arm. "Now."

His back flops onto the bed, "Wanna cuddle? I'm still freezing."

Scott falls as aggressively as possible onto the punk.  
"Fine, I'm too tired not to anyway."

Scott lays on the punks chest only for a moment before calling for an adjustment, "Turn around! I'm not being a little spoon!"

"Knowing you, you're more of a salad fork." Duncan replies.

The two argued for a moment about who'd be what, but ultimately resumed their position prior.

It was a warm night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this was alright!! These two are my favorite pair and I love them soooo fuckin much!! I may make more content ab them, maybe set after the show more bc I really want to expand on their relationship!

**Author's Note:**

> I cut this into 2 chapters bc it's a little long woopsies


End file.
